


baby, if you're gonna be lonely, be lonely with me

by gravinnen



Series: we make hope from every small disaster [1]
Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 13:43:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9184072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gravinnen/pseuds/gravinnen
Summary: Isak is sad about stuff and thinks staring passively at the ceiling will magically fix all of his problems. spoiler alert, it doesn't.





	

Isak knows he’s lucky. He’s aware. He’s seen enough sad movies about sad gay characters who live in sad towns and drive sad cars and listen to sad music to know that not everyone finds an Even Bech Næsheim at the tender age of seventeen to walk into the sunset with, while a gaggle of supportive friends cheers you on, throwing confetti and condoms in your general direction and yelling about pansexuality. Isak knows he’s probably as lucky as a human being can get to have someone like Even in his life. Even — who’s not only aware but also endlessly respectful of his boundaries, who is so sweet and kind and thoughtful and who had only laughed once, really quietly, when Isak told him he was seriously considering recording a rap song.  
  
There have been at least two instances when Isak woke up in the middle of the night next to Even, peacefully asleep, looking _so_ good, and very nearly threw up because he was so happy, which is not something he will ever tell anyone about but which is probably proof that there’s nobody in the world who’s more aware of how lucky he is than Isak and he thinks, maybe that’s the problem.  
  
If he’s honest with himself, which is, admittedly, not something he’s spectacularly amazing at but which he is working on, he’s pretty much never not thinking about how great Even is. And that’s fine, probably healthy even, to look at your partner that way. It’s just that, sometimes, in his darkest moments, when the world seems loud and rough and too much, it’s hard to not think about how much greater Even is. Greater, better, prettier, funnier — than him.  
  
And like, it’s not a huge deal. Isak’s not, like, crying every night, thinking about how much better Even looks in a suit than he does. He’s not entirely without confidence. He knows he looks good in black and just the right shade of cherry red, and that snapbacks look awesome on him both worn the right way around _and_ the cool way, which is not something everyone can say. He knows he can be really charming if he wants to be and like, maybe he’s not the most hilarious guy in the world but he can be funny, sometimes. Just last week he’d cracked a joke that made at least three people laugh and he’d only thought about it for twenty minutes.  
  
Isak’s good at biology, and he’s not bad at English either, and he once managed to put an IKEA cabinet together without losing any of the seventy-six tiny screws that came with it. His eyes are not quite brown and not quite green, which has earned him several compliments from both girls and boys but Even has yet to say anything about, which, you know, is _fine_. He’s fairly sure his thighs would look great if he could just push himself to go to the gym more than once every three months.  
  
It’s just that it’s not always entirely fun to be dating someone that has been compared to the actual sun by at least four different people. Someone who looks amazing in both purple and beige, and knows how to paint and draw, and somehow, always knows about cool, new music six months before everyone else hears about it. And obviously it’s great that just that one picture with Even on his Instagram has earned him more likes than all of his selfies and Illuminati proof put together, that’s completely fine, but it’s just not always the best feeling in the world to be ignored by the guy working at the coffee shop just because Even is standing next to him wearing that jean jacket that makes Isak, and apparently Jon from the coffee shop, weak at the knees.  
  
It worries him, makes him feel like a cheat sometimes, somehow. Always teetering on the edge of ‘is he going to find out, when is he going to find out that I’m not the world’s coolest dude in the world, that giving blowjobs still still scares the crap out of me, that I sometimes think the weirdest things, that I could never, ever shine as bright as him’.  
  
Isak thinks it’s probably not entirely normal to think that way and that he should probably talk to Even about this.  
  
Sometime soon.  
  
Maybe.  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
“Can you imagine being that handsome?” Magnus asks him the next Monday, following Isak’s gaze to where Even’s sitting in the cafetaria, talking animatedly to two girls who are very obviously wishing Even would continue this conversation but maybe also take off his shirt. Isak can’t blame them.  
  
“Hm?” He sighs, trying to think of ways to confiscate Mahdi’s bun without Mahdi noticing instead of paying any attention to all of his crippling insecurities that he can’t seem to stop thinking about. Just yesterday afternoon he almost cried because his knees looked a little weird in his new jeans.  
  
“Can you imagine waking up every morning, looking in the mirror and thinking, yeah, okay, still look amazing, no surprise there, what’s for breakfast?  
  
“You never wake up thinking, yeah, okay, still look amazing?” Jonas, who is seemingly always ready to save any of his bros from feeling bad about themselves, asks from his side of the table.  
  
Magnus shrugs. “I mean, do you? I mostly wake up thinking, just, _yeah, okay_.”  
  
  “That upsets me, man.” Jonas says. “That really upsets me. You’ve got a great face. Great hair. Great posture. The acne will be gone in a year. Throw away that blue beanie and you, too, can be an Even.”  
  
“You don’t like the blue beanie?”  
  
“I’m not, like, a huge fan.”  
  
“It’s so comfortable, though. Mahdi?”  
  
“I don’t love it.”  
  
“Honestly, people! Isak?”  
  
“I mean… I’ve seen better beanies.”  
  
“This kind of hurts, guys. Why did you let me walk around with it for months?” Magnus says, clutching his hand to his heart and taking another look at Even, who is now joined by two more girls. Isak briefly wonders if he should do something about it, mark his territory, or whatever, but then remembers that just yesterday he had slept with the television on because he was simply too lazy to reach toward it to turn it off, even though it made falling asleep ten times harder, and so should probably stop even entertaining that notion.  
  
“Does he like, _know_?” Magnus asks, lowering his voice and turning to Isak. “I’ll think about maybe throwing away that beanie. Maybe.”  
  
“Know what?”  
  
“That he always looks great.”  
  
“Magnus…”  
  
“I’m being completely serious.”  
  
Isak ponders on that for a minute. He thinks about Even and his bright aura, his bright eyes and his bright words, and, “I doubt it.” He sighs, still not entirely comfortable talking about hot guys with his friends. “I mean, I don’t think he knows just how… um, good he looks.”  
  
“I feel like that’s what makes people cool, though.” Jonas says. “He’s cool because he doesn’t care if he’s cool. He is not actively trying to be cool. He’s not — _desperate_ , like some of us.”  
  
Mahdi nods solemnly, ignoring Magnus’s spluttering. “It’s true. He’s got a really good vibe.”  
  
Isak can’t help but roll his eyes. He’s getting slightly annoyed now and he’s not even entirely sure why. It’s just that he knows, okay? He knows Even could be June in an Attitude calendar and probably will be at one point in his life and that he should count himself lucky if he, like, gets to _edit_ the calendar. Or buy it, or whatever. And he is kind of angry about it, and frustrated, but it is so hard to be angry at someone who is as nice as Even is.  
  
Isak is actually so busy staring kind of aggressively at his bottle of water and trying to make sense of his conflicted feelings that he doesn’t realize Even has walked over and is now standing directly beside him until he feels that his snapback is taken off of his head.  
  
“What.” He says.  
  
“What’s with the aggressive face? Is there someone you need me to punch?” Even asks, putting the snapback on his own head and reaching forward to put his thumbs on each corner of Isak’s mouth and lifting them so Isak’s now doing something that resembles smiling. “Much better.”  
  
“I have hat hair, now.” Isak says, pushing Even’s hands away from his face and trying to reach for the snapback without having to actually stand up from his chair. When did he become so fucking lazy, seriously?  
  
“I know. It makes me want to say really soppy stuff to you but because all of your three friends are here I’ll just tell you that no, you don’t look super cute and I feel absolutely nothing.”  
  
That makes the boys laugh, and when Even looks at him with that proud expression on his face, Isak has a hard time keeping from smiling as well.  
  
“Thanks.” He says. “I don’t feel anything either.”  
  
“So glad we’re on the same page. When are you done with school today? We should hang out and not feel anything together.”  
  
“Ten past three.”  
  
“Cool.”  
  
“Cool.”  
  
“I’ll wait up for you, then, I’m done a little bit earlier. You’ll probably find me sitting on a certain bench that also means nothing to me and doesn’t make me feel anything.” Even adjusts the snapback on his head and starts walking away in that _way_ that he does and Isak is so, so crazy about him. He is really annoyed. “Later.”  
  
“Later.” Isak says, feeling the eyes of his friends on him.  
  
“I want to make so many jokes right now, particularly about that gay as hell look on your face but like, I get it?” Magnus says. “I get it, man. I’m throwing that beanie away.”  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
Isak thinks that maybe he spends just a little bit more time lying in his bed and staring at the ceiling than most other people. It’s just that almost always — for example, on this particularly cold Sunday afternoon — lying in bed doing nothing seems like the best option. He’s warm, he’s comfy and most importantly, he can think of all the ways Even probably deserves better than him in silence, without anyone bothering him or trying to convince him otherwise.  
  
That is, until Eskild opens the door — without knocking, why does he never knock? — and falls down on Isak’s bed next to him, wearing a sad expression and really not much else except for some really tiny shorts and a shirt with George Michael’s face on it, which Isak has to admit, he kind of likes.  
  
“Thoughts on Khloe Kardashian’s restrictive diet habits?”  
  
“I have none.”  
  
“You have not one single thought on Khloe Kardashian’s restrictive diet habits?”  
  
“Is she the one with all of the kids?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Then no, I have not one single thought on Khloe Kardashian’s restrictive diet habits.”  
  
“It’s just that it makes me kind of sad that someone who has so much to offer to the world spends her time worrying about gluten, you know?”    
  
“Okay.”  
  
“Fine.” Eskild turns to his stomach and lifts his feet in the air. Isak can see that just one of his toenails is painted bright pink. “Where is Even?”  
  
“Family dinner.”  
  
“How are you guys doing anyway?”  
  
“Good.”  
  
“Is he being nice to you?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Are you being nice to him?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“That’s really interesting, Isak, wow! I’m like, loving that you’re trusting me with all of these details. I’m really glad you feel so comfortable sharing all of these things with me, your guru who loves you and wants the best for you.”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
“You’re being annoying and I’m feeling a little insulted, know that, _realize that_ , but okay, fine, message received. I’ll go. Talk to you never.” Eskild gets up from the bed dramatically. Isak briefly wonders what is must be like to be so much all of the time.  
  
“Eskild…”  
  
“No, it’s fine.” Eskild says, opening the door. “You don’t owe me anything. I mean, it’s not like I helped you through a super traumatic time in your life, guiding you with the grace and patience usually only seen in actual angels — it’s fine.”  
  
“Eskild!”  
  
“What!”  
  
Isak swallows, thinks about how life was so great when it was just him and the ceiling but also, maybe, a little bit about Ibiza and how one should never strive to become like it. “I could, um, actually use some advice.”  
  
Eskild is back on the bed surprisingly fast. “Tell me everything.”  
  
“Have you ever, like, dated someone who was maybe, just a little bit out of your league?”  
  
“Ah, Isak.” Eskild says, a certain seriousness in his voice suddenly and this, _this_ is why Isak is secretly really so fond of Eskild. It’s because he knows, Eskild _knows_ that there’s a time for jokes and there’s a time for being earnest and even though he sometimes gets it wrong, he will always try to get it right. And he will always take Isak seriously and sometimes, that’s all you need — to feel like your feelings are real and valid and true and deserve to be taken seriously.  
  
Eskild smiles, puts his head briefly on Isak’s shoulder and then turns to look at him. “Is that what you’re feeling? That Even might be too good for you?”  
  
“I mean… He’s really um, beautiful.”  
  
“True.”  
  
“And nice.”  
  
“Also true.”  
  
“He gives money to charity every month.”  
  
“Commendable.”  
  
“Yesterday I made out with him for three hours and he didn’t once pressure me to, um — ”  
  
“ — Have penetrative sex.”  
  
“Oh my god.”  
  
“— Anal sex?”  
  
“You are traumatizing me.”  
  
“ — Do the actual deed?”  
  
“Okay.” Isak swallows. “I just feel like, he’s so pretty and cool and it’s just — um, maybe, a matter of like, _time_ , maybe, until he’s going to find out that I am probably never going to be able to grow a beard.”  
  
“I’m just going to assume the beard is actually a metaphor for a million other things you’re worrying about and just roll with that, okay?” Eskild says, staring out of the window pensively for a moment. “So, why do you like Even?”  
  
“Because — well, I just told you. He’s nice, he gives to charity every single month. Literally, he never seems to think okay, but I could buy a pizza instead of giving to charity this month. Never.”  
  
“So, if Even didn’t give money to charity you wouldn’t like him?”  
  
“No, no, it wouldn’t make a difference, to be honest. Is that a really bad thing to say?”  
  
“Just a little but I’m going to ignore it so we can move this conversation along before you notice you are actually opening up to someone. So, tell me, why do _you_ like Even so much?”  
  
Isak is starting to kind of wish he had never started this conversation because just thinking about all the reasons he likes Even makes it hard to breathe — both because he’s like, really in love and because it’s super embarrassing to think most of the things he’s thinking — let alone actually telling them to someone who _has ears_ and _can hear_. He coughs but unfortunately, Eskild — and this conversation — doesn’t magically disappear. Why does this trick never work?  
  
“He’s um, he’s always so enthusiastic. About everything. Stuff that I like, even though he doesn’t always like it himself. He is always interested, genuinely, actually interested. And um, he’s funny but like, in a lame way? And he thinks he’s so fucking hilarious and that’s just — I mean, that’s um, kind of — cute, right?”  
  
Eskild nods, doesn’t say anything about Isak saying the word ‘cute’ and Isak is so thankful for that he would literally be willing to paint all of Eskild’s other toenails bright pink and maybe his own as well.  
  
“And um, I like that he’s creative. And supportive. And easy to get along with. He’s the life of the party and that’s nice because I don’t always want to be or have to be and that — works, I guess.”  
  
“Right. So, do you think, maybe that’s how he feels about you as well? I’m not gonna sit here and deny that Even is really, really hot and really nice and that you’re lucky to be with him but I’m also not gonna sit here and deny that I think he’s really lucky as well, to have _you_.”  
  
“Hey, thanks, Eskild.”  
  
“I’m completely serious, my elfin-looking friend. You’re a really great person. You’re really caring and like, chilled out and you look great in just the right shade of cherry red. And Even’s really great too but, you know, he’s not perfect either. Don’t forget that. Even’s too awesome to be idolized.”  
  
“Thanks. Um, seriously.”  
  
“You’re welcome. Isn’t is so fun and nice to talk to your friends about shit you’re going through?”  
  
 “So fun and so nice.” Isak rolls his eyes, his feet firmly back on solid ground. “Did you know, um, that Even only joined Kosegruppa so he could meet me?”

Eskild looks up and raises his eyebrows. “You’re kidding.”  
  
Isak can’t keep the grin off of his face. “He told me.”  
  
“That’s so fucking sweet. He is _so_ sweet.” Eskild says, and then, “I take it back. He is too good for you and we all should be so lucky.”  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
Isak never thought Thursday afternoons had the capability to be this nice. He’s sat on his bed, his nose somewhere near Even’s ear and his mouth just _there_ on Even’s neck, the way Even keeps saying ‘Isak…’ is blowing his fucking mind and clearly, Thursday afternoons can be this nice. How could someone ever bounce back from this, honestly.  
  
“I really need to study.” Even says, leaning away from Isak and falling down on the bed so he’s stretched out from the end of it all the way to the headboard. His shirt has lifted just slightly, showing the smallest bit of skin, some of the hairs just underneath his navel. Isak swallows. “I really, really need to study.”  
  
“You’re making me sad talking about studying.” Isak says, leaning back on his heels and stretching.  
  
“No, but, I really need to study.”  
  
“I’m going to cry.”  
  
“I’m so behind.”  
  
“I’m crying.”  
  
“Ah, I’m sorry, but when you’re dating an older man, such as myself, you know, we have different lives, Isak, I’m at a different stage in life than you are. I have responsibilities. Do you know what those are?” Even says, leaning in for a kiss but Isak swiftly pushes him away.  
  
“Of course, so stupid of me to forget. You go and study and worry about taxes and like, where you’re going to spend this last stage of your life, I’ll just be here, thinking about what cool party I’m going to go to this weekend.”  
  
“Cool party?”   
  
“It’s only for young, hip people.”  
  
“I’m young, hip people.”  
  
  “Young, hip people don’t study. They kiss. And go down on other young, hip people.”  
  
Even smiles and grabs Isak’s face with his hands, letting them both fall down on the bed and looking like someone just offered him a white limo Tesla. “You’re so great.” He kisses Isak, taking his bottom lip between his teeth and then, _oh god_ , pushing his hand in the back pocket of Isak’s jeans. “Like, so fucking great.”  
  
  Isak tries his best not to blush. Instead, he deadpans, “You’re okay.”     
  
“Thanks.”  
  
Even pushes his nose in Isak’s neck and pulls him down in a hug that makes Isak feel so warm, both on the outside and the inside. Safe, like he hasn’t felt since he moved out of his parent’s home — protected, and _seen_ , loved.  
  
“Seriously though, you know I really, really like you, right?”  
  
“We’re dating. It would be kind of weird if you didn’t like me.”  
  
“Sometimes I think about how it must feel to have a boyfriend that just accepts a compliment that you, his boyfriend, so kindly give him, but then I remember, I’ll probably never know.”  
  
“Um.”  
  
“But don’t think that’ll ever stop me.” Even says, pushing Isak’s hair away from his face. Isak leans into it, just a little bit. “Because you’re like, really cute. And I want to tell you all the time.”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
“Really, really cute.”  
  
“Yes.”     
  
“The cutest, maybe, even.”  
  
“And really rugged and manly, obviously.” Isak mutters, hiding his bright red face in Even’s chest.  
  
“The manliest.”  
  
And Isak knows, he _knows_ that maybe they should talk about this, soon, about the dark cloud that surrounds Isak sometimes, but he thinks for now, they’re all right and he can sit under Even’s bright sun for just a little longer.

**Author's Note:**

> so, this happened. one day I will write something that is not just endless dialogue but today is not that day. just imagine that, me actually describing something. amazing. anyway, doctor Skrulle lied, Ibiza is really great! title is from the song lonely with me by parachute. I have [a tumblr](https://koninginnen.tumblr.com/) now too! come say hi, if you'd like to!


End file.
